And you guys thought the last post was long...

This week has been an enlightening one. It’s so easy for me, the educated American girl who has known little tragedy in her life, to pass judgment on the Honduran people. I see the many problems they face and what, to me, seems to be logical solutions without stopping to consider the multiple obstacles they have had to overcome. How dare I pretend to understand the tribulations that these people have encountered? I’ve never known a hungry day in my life. I’ve never had to choose between feeding my family and getting an education. True, I’ve had to carry the burden of one murdered loved one… a tragic event that has molded me as a person and changed my life forever. Many of you know the same pain and fear I felt January 12^th nearly 6 years ago. Imagine, if you will, multiple murdered loved ones – husbands, children, uncles, and friends. But you never get a trial or an arrest; you never know what happened, who did it, or why they did it. Imagine the void.

It’s not uncommon here to see children without fathers, siblings with different fathers, mothers without husbands, and children that are completely unruly. I’ve fallen into the nasty habit of assuming the women to be careless, the men to be irresponsible, and the children to be entirely undisciplined. Lately, however, I’ve been learning more about some of the students at my school. Here’s a glimpse at some of their stories:

Meet Jennifer. A mere 5 years old, shy little Jennifer is one of the smartest children in her class. Jennifer has an adorable smile and a sweet personality; unfortunately, she also has a family that can’t afford to look after her. Due to her young age, she only has class until 11:20; however, most days she spends the remainder of the morning in our class keeping busy until some random family member actually comes to pick her up (we’ve begun planning art for that time of the day to enable her to participate more). It’s a far too common occurrence for Jennifer to spend a portion of the day crying from stomach cramps because she’s hungry. Thursday, for instance, her lunch consisted of an orange, a bag of chips (which her sister stole from her), and a juice box. She has two siblings at the school: an older sister in third grade with a malicious personality and an older brother in sixth grade who is known for picking fights and stealing the younger children’s lunch money. I fear it’s only a matter of time until Jennifer, too, adopts the same bitter disposition of her siblings.

You’ve heard me talk about Sofia and Roberto before. Last Saturday was Roberto’s 8^th birthday, so Jeremy and I went over to their house for a baleada dinner to celebrate. While we sat at the dinner table I talked to their grandmother, Doña Norma, about the family and some of the many trials they’ve had to endure over the years. The conversation started with Sofia and Roberto’s cousin, Emily, who is living with the family for the next few months with her younger sister and expecting mother. (Side note: this means that there are now FOURTEEN people living in their tiny, two-bedroom, adobe house!) Emily is 5 years old and looks nearly identical to Sofia. She sat on my lap as her grandmother explained to me how her father was killed in Guatemala two years before. Emily flipped through a photo book showing me pictures of her father and various other family members while I hugged her close and held back tears. The thought of losing your father at such a young age without a rhyme or reason – pure assault – just breaks my heart. We continued to talk, and I learned that Emily was not the only child in the family to suffer such loss. Sofia’s and Roberto’s fathers both succumbed to similar fates – one was assaulted in the nearby city of San Pedro Sula and the other in the not-so-distant little town of Copán. I see the murder scenes littering the front pages of the newspapers every day, but I suppose I never dared to think about them affecting my own students.

Yet another of Sofia and Roberto’s cousins stood at the door of the kitchen while we talked. Every now and then she would hobble into the kitchen to get a plate or glass for one of her family members in the living room. Doña Norma explained that she was diagnosed with a severe bone disease several years ago. She had spent two years in the hospital undergoing various treatments and now, at 16 years old, was heavily medicated and significantly behind her class in school. Norma kept referring to the girl’s mother as her “lost daughter.” When I asked her why she referred to her as such she explained that her daughter had tried to illegally migrate to the United States and was never been heard from again. No one knows what happened to her or if she’s alive.

The evening birthday party was void of cake or presents (as it’s essentially impossible to afford such luxuries when only one person in their 14-member household has a job). It was, however, full of giggling children, smiling faces… and tragic stories. I hate to think: if one evening in a house of 14 people revealed such heartbreaking tragedies about a mere four members of the household, what obstacles have the other 10 endured? And, beyond that, if these are only some of the tribulations of ONE family in Cofradίa, how many of my students have similar stories to tell?

Lately I’ve had a difficult time chastising my children in class. When Andrea refuses to stay in her seat and is, rather, at the board with her arms wrapped around my waist, I have a hard time telling her to sit down. We were supposed to go visit her house last Sunday night but had to cancel our plans after multiple warnings that where she lives is a “very dangerous” place where assault is highly common. Who knows what things she sees at her house during the afternoons while her single mother is at work? When Anyi tells one of her classmates that they’re full of sh*t, I don’t quite know how to punish her for something that I know she heard directly from the mouth of her father. How do I explain to Osman why I don’t like to be handed a drawing of two smiling men happily shooting each other? I suppose that in the states something like that might be frowned upon, but it carries so much more weight here. The things that they show on the news here – murder scenes, faceless victims, bodies scattered across the scene of a car wreck – are like being in a court room daily.

The things that these kids have seen and faced surpass the tribulations that any of us at home can imagine. The problems that they are forced to take on far exceed their maturity level and rob them of their hope and innocence at such a young age. Nonetheless, they still come to school every day with smiling faces, bouncing pigtails, and waist-high bear hugs. It never ceases to amaze me that, despite the poverty, hunger, and tragedy that the Honduran people have endured, they seem to remain continually content. These people are so much stronger than I give them credit for. I should not judge them; rather, I should admire their strength and perseverance.

For those of you that have actually stuck with me through the past two pages of introspection, I suppose I’ll continue a bit further with what I’ve actually been doing over the past two weeks. We have embarked on Christmas season here at Cofradίa Bilingual School. With only 3 days of school remaining before the two-week vacation, we’ve spent the past days cutting and coloring snowflakes, decorating paper picture frames for Christmas gifts, and learning the Christmas songs that we discovered only days ago we were supposed to present at the school presentation next Wednesday. The sixth grade girls have opted out of singing Christmas songs and have chosen a slightly more “modern” option: dance. So, they’ve spent at least an hour per day of the past week blasting their reggaeton (how that qualifies as Christmas music I have no idea…) and shaking their hips in a manner that no sixth grader should know how to do while the younger children watch through the barred window.

Jeremy and I have continued to make an effort to get to know the families of our children. We’ve now visited Sofia, Raquel, Kevin, and Osman’s houses. It’s so wonderful to meet the families of our kids and to see their homes; it allows us to better understand and identify with them. Unfortunately, I only have three more days with my adorable, little first-graders. During the next week, three of our teachers will be returning to their respective homes. As such, after the vacation I will be taking over fifth grade for Miss Betsy. Part of me is very excited for my new class – I feel that I have the knowledge to teach so much more than 2 + 2 and one-syllable words –, but I’m sad to leave my kids. Class is about to get a lot harder for them since Mr. Jeremy speaks NO Spanish, but I am confident that it will be beneficial for their English skills.

On Thursday we had two soccer games versus San Jeronimo Bilingual School just down the street from us – colegio versus colegio and teachers versus teachers. Our colegio lost 3-2 in a shoot-out, but our teachers won! It was SO nice to play soccer again. I went from playing at least two days a week at home to not having played in two months! It was really a lot of fun. I hope that we can do it more after the break.

Last night Diede and I went to San Pedro with some of the instructors from the other school. We went to a bar called Klein Bohemia (Little Bohemia). It’s an adorable little hole-in-the wall with live music and a really laid back atmosphere… and… are you ready for this?... SALSA LESSONS! We finally found somewhere to salsa! They have lessons Thursday nights, so we will definitely be hitting that up. They also have frequent showings of independent films, live shows, and open mic nights. I’d seen the bar in Lonely Planet and I knew that the San Jeronimo instructors went there somewhat frequently, but I hadn’t had the opportunity to see it for myself yet. I’m pretty excited about the discovery.

With the vacation only days away, I’ve finally decided what I’m going to do over the break: nothing. It completely blows me away that I am living in a country with such an incredibly low cost of living and am still completely poor. But, I’m actually looking forward to spending the vacation in Cofradίa. I’ve been invited to spend the holiday at a variety of homes, but I think I’ll spend the day at Doña Norma’s with Roberto, Sofia, and Emily. I am taking a short trip immediately after school ends to Belize to satisfy my visa requirements – you’re required to leave the “country” (which, due to their agreement, includes Honduras, Guatemala, El Salvador, and Nicaragua) once every three months in order to avoid a fine. So, I am going to join a bus-full of fellow volunteers on a three-day excursion to Belize from December 18^th to the 20^th… hopefully (I try not to rely too heavily on “plans” here).

I think that pretty much sums it up. For those that are still with me (Mom, Dad, Grandma and Grandpa…) I’m sorry to have burdened you with such a lengthy novel. I know it’s Christmas break, and the majority of you had no desire to read something so long. I hope you’re all doing well, and that you’re enjoying the holidays. I miss you guys, as always. ¡Besos, abrazos, y feliz navidad!

And a few more pics...

(Thanksgiving with Norma and the kids and cute pictures of a couple of my first-graders -- Melanny and Nicolle)

Yes, I'm still alive!

I’ve been getting a few complaints regarding the amount of time that’s passed since my previous posting. For this I apologize. The majority of my free time has been spent writing graduate school application essays lately, so sitting down to write up a blog is a little less-than-appealing at the moment. And then there’s the added difficulty of being able to post on the slow computers here; I went into San Pedro last Sunday, as per my weekly routine, only to find that the internet was down. Anyways, here’s an update on what’s been going on the last few weeks here in Honduras:

Life in Cofradίa is a daily battle. I pull myself out of bed at 6:00 am, stumble upstairs to see if by some miracle the water’s working today, throw on some clothes and one of the three pairs of mangled shoes that I’ve gone through since my arrival, and set off on the mile and half trek to the school. The first thing that crosses my mind as I step through the giant metal gates labeled ‘Cofradίa Bilingual School’ is “God, I hope the Spanish teachers are here today”(subbing for an unexpected absent instructor is probably one of my least favorite parts of this job). I cross the dusty, rock-littered soccer field to the faculty lounge, which consists of a one-room building containing four tables pushed together surrounded by orange, padded chairs – not the most luxurious accommodations, but the doors lock providing a fabulous escape from the screaming children. I sit down and prepare math worksheets for the first graders, gather them together, and cross the soccer field once again to the office where the barely-functional copier stands. Making copies is a time-consuming process as the copier can handle no more than 5 sheets of paper at a time. Once finished, I wander to the kitchen for a baleada or pastellito and back to the faculty lounge to prepare my chemistry lesson.

At 9:30 the bell rings for recess, and I make my way to the first grade classroom. As I step through the gate to the small children play area I brace myself as 5 or 6 screaming first graders come flying towards me with arms open wide: “Miss!” I drag my skirt of 6-year-olds across the playground and step into the classroom to set my stuff down. From here the day truly begins. Jeremy and I have finally established a fairly regular routine that’s only altered on Fridays and on the unfortunate days when the copier is not working. From 9:40 to 11:20 I teach math to my remedial class which consists of three main groups of children: those that are practically at the same level as the other class but lack the discipline to apply themselves in the larger classroom, those that are behind but are working hard to catch up, and those that still cannot show me how many fingers 6 is. The span of abilities makes it difficult to teach one lesson, so I’m trying to do three at once. Fortunately, with only 8 children, I’m managing to do so; though it’s a little hectic.

At 11:20 I walk over to the junior high classroom for Chemistry. That class has been going moderately well. We’ve managed to complete three labs, and we’ve covered the first two groups of the period table. Unfortunately, however, maintaining control of the class is significantly more challenging than teaching. Since children tend to begin working as early as 6^th grade in Honduras, these kids seem to think that they’re adults in 7^th-graders’ bodies, which makes forcing them to listen a real challenge. It’s really sad: none of the teachers enjoy teaching this class. In fact, there are a number of periods throughout the day that they go completely teacher-less drifting around the classroom listening to reggaeton, trying to break dance, or playing Uno. For me, it’s not that I dislike teaching junior highers; on the contrary, I love them. But these kids are such a challenge. They have attitudes as though you couldn’t possibly teach them anything new, and you really have nothing to threaten them with to force them to listen. The administrators don’t seem to be at all concerned that their education is going to waste, and poor grades mean nothing to the kids. Last week I finally lost it with some of the boys. I told them that if they didn’t want to listen that was fine; just don’t interrupt the rest of the class. I’m not being paid to be here, and I really have no obligation to force them to learn. The only thing at stake here is their future. I wasn’t saying it to force them to listen but, rather, because that’s how I truly felt. Regardless, it seemed to get their attention… for a day. In the end, the best I can do is the best I can do. What they choose to take in is up to them.

The lunch bell rings at 12:05. I gather my things and wander to the kitchen to find out what unknown substance lies on our lunch plates today. I grab some lunch and a bag of purified water and meet the rest of the teachers in the faculty lounge to escape the kids for 30 minutes. At 12:50 the bell rings once again and I rejoin my first graders for English until 2:10.

At the end of the day I collect Sofia and Roberto, two of the kids in the school who have been coming to the house for Math and English lessons every day. Their grandmother is, for lack of a better term, the janitor of Cofradίa Bilingual School. After she finishes her cleaning duties, she stops by the house and picks them up on her way home. I’m growing incredibly attached to this family. Sofia is the one pictured with me in the posting a few weeks back. Her brother, Roberto, is in second grade and equally adorable. Norma is a tiny Honduran woman with the sweetest disposition and a true interest in the well-being of the volunteers. We’ve been to her house more than once now: a tiny three-bedroom house that holds 11 people – her husband, her daughter, Sofia, Roberto, and their siblings and cousins. Her son lives up the road in a large house and has one of the most polite families I’ve met since my arrival. I truly adore that family.

After Norma picks up Roberto and Sofia, the rest of the afternoon is whatever I make it. Usually it consists of a liquado, the internet café, and sleeping; although, Wednesdays and Fridays Jeremy and I have begun teaching an English course for a boy that lives down the street for a whopping 40 lempiras per hour (approximately $2). He’s a really polite kid with quite a bit of English already, so it’s a breeze to teach him. The goal is to better his conversational skills, so we just sit there and talk to him for an hour or so.

The search continues for a decent dance club in Honduras. I’ve now been dancing at two places in Cofradίa and one discoteca in San Pedro Sula… disappointment everywhere I look! I’m coming to the realization that just because Honduras is a Latin country does not automatically mean that it embraces its culture’s various dance styles as strongly as some of its neighboring countries. But fear not, I’ve not yet given up hope. If there are salsa bars in Boise, there has GOT to be something here. It’s simply a matter of finding it. Fortunately, I now have someone to join me in my search: a week and a half ago we received a new volunteer from Holland… and she’s female, so I now have a female roommate! She too is interested in tracking down some place that plays something besides reggaeton. Wish us luck!

The most significant event of the past few weeks – and perhaps the most exciting event that’s taken place since my arrival – happened a week and a half ago: Honduras versus Mexico World Cup elimination game! It was SO much fun!! It rained the entire game so that by the time we made it home we were soaked to the bone and freezing, but it was worth every raindrop. Some of you are aware of my minor infatuation with the sport of soccer; as such, this experience was sort of a dream come true for me. Honduras won the match 1-0 (yay!) off of an own-goal by Mexico (lame…). But, Honduras dominated the entire match, so they deserved the win in my opinion. It was so amazing to watch such talented players only yards a way from me. I so hope to have the opportunity to watch another game before I leave.

Thanksgiving was a little bit different this year than most, but it was still a really nice holiday. Naturally, I worked during the day (believe it or not, Honduras doesn’t celebrate Thanksgiving). In the evening I enjoyed a delicious cena at Iguanas with three of my roommates, Miss Norma, Sofia, and Roberto. Cena is a traditional meal here that consists of refried beans, cheese, eggs, plantains, and tortillas. ¡Que delicioso! After dinner, Diede, Jeremy, and I went back to the house and watched Zoolander while enjoying some make-shift sangria that Diede and I had prepared the night before. It was a pretty exciting evening. My favorite part of the evening, however, was playing ‘Guess That Voice’ with my family back home – a game that consists of all of my family members getting on the telephone and me trying to differentiate who’s speaking. I must say, I was pretty proud of myself. The only ones that threw me for a loop were Derek (I hate it when your little cousins grow up!) and Cathie (which family member is this?) All in all, it was a good holiday, but I certainly missed everyone back home.

Plans are still a little uncertain for Christmas break, but it’s been determined that they will not include my brother. Tickets were just too expensive for him to come down, but it looks like my parents may be coming down in February. So, I’m hoping he’ll be able to join them then. As for me, I think I may make my way up to Guatemala with one of the other volunteers. Or, who knows, maybe I’ll just stay in Cofradίa. Norma has invited me to join them for Christmas, and it would certainly save money. But, we’ll see.

I also found out this week that one of my friends from Costa Rica is coming down January 13^th. I’m soooo excited!!! AND another of my best friends, Jesse, will be coming down to join me in some traveling my last week here (March 1 – 11). Between the upcoming Christmas vacation and visitors, I’m realizing the rest of my time here is going to FLY by! I can’t believe I’ve already been here a month and a half! I almost wish it would slow down a bit. I don’t want to leave yet!

Well, I suppose I’ve wasted enough of my precious wireless internet time writing a blog for one day. I really need to get back to work on my graduate school applications. I hope that all is well for everyone at home, and that you enjoyed your Thanksgivings! I love you all so very much, and miss you tons!

Heartbreaking disparity

Honduras is a country of such stark contrasts. Breathtaking hills of green vegetation serve as backdrop to absolute poverty and destruction. The children that play in the streets paint a deceptive picture of love and family while the majority of them don’t know their fathers and are barely offered an upbringing by their mothers or grandparents… after all, it’s difficult when they’re one of six, each with different fathers. The abstinence that is taught by the many Catholic and Christian churches that fill the streets with their music into the late hours of the evening is clearly disregarded early on as many of the girls here are pregnant by 18. Little is expected of the men, however, besides contributing to the high population of impoverished children and passing along the deadly virus that has marked San Pedro Sula as the AIDS capital of Central America. Most of them take absolutely no part in their children’s upbringing even when they live as nearby as across the street – many don’t even claim them as their own. The social gap that characterizes the majority of Latin America is more prevalent here than ever; there is absolutely no middle class, and I’ve seen very little of the upper class besides those wandering the mall in San Pedro Sula. At the school each day, rotted smiles grin at me from my 1^st-graders’ cherub faces as they spit lies and deceit. Never have I seen such dishonesty, theft, and violence starting from such a young age. Stealing from one another, stealing from us, lying about nearly everything, fighting with their classmates, chucking rocks at one another, mocking the pain of their so-called friends… it’s sad to see how quickly these kids have learned the behaviors that seem to characterize their country.

Despite the terrible behavior demonstrated by the 200 students at Cofradίa Bilingual School, I fear that leaving them is going to be the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I’m sure it’s every teacher’s lot to be plagued by the question of “what ever happened to…?” Not to belittle the experiences of the teachers at home, but the questions that overshadow my daily experiences go so much deeper. What will happen to these children in the years to come? How many will actually stay in school? How many will escape the poverty that plagues their country? How many of the girls will learn that there is more to life than raising children? Perhaps some will be lucky enough to leave Cofradίa and make it to San Pedro Sula? Maybe even one or two will make it out of Honduras? But, and this is what haunts me, how many won’t? How many won’t finish school? How many will never realize their potential? How many will never escape Cofradίa and the poverty that festers here? How many will become another murder or AIDS statistic? What will happen to them? And what’s worse: I will never know.

This teaching business is so much more work than I ever imagined it would be. I have gained a renewed respect for the teachers at home. I come home exhausted every afternoon from a full day of giving everything I have to help these children land on the positive side of my aforementioned question. As such, I repeat: leaving may be the hardest thing I’ve ever done.

A brief update of what I’ve been up to: As you know, I took the GRE Chemistry Subject test in Guatemala City last weekend. I won’t know for six weeks how I did, but now I can finish the rest of my applications. My goal is to finish them in the next month so that they will be done when I leave for my incredible Christmas vacation in Costa Rica with my brother!

Jeremy and I are splitting the first grade class nearly in half for two hours every morning. I am working with the remedial children on their Math and English, or, more appropriately, number and letter recognition. And my most exciting development: I’ve changed the colegio Reading class to a Chemistry course! The kids actually asked for it! Some of their siblings are learning Chemistry in high school, so it’s more appealing to them than a Reading course. By then end of the week we will have covered matter and its basic properties, and next week we will begin on the periodic table. Thanks to Mikey, I have a book of simple labs that use easily-attainable materials, so I’m able to do some labs with them. Thanks, Mikey! :)

This weekend I’ll be testing out the dance scene in San Pedro Sula. One of the temporary workers at the Rocks is leaving to work on a cruise ship in a matter of weeks, so she and I as well as a few others are going to go dancing Friday night. Fingers crossed that there are some good dancers in the city! Then Saturday night casa pequeña is hosting a farewell dinner in her honor. We found out yesterday that we need to submit report cards by Friday in preparation for parent-teacher conferences Saturday. So, all things considered, it’s working out to be a full weekend! I’m looking forward to meeting some of our kids’ parents. We’ve been trying to assign homework, and I’m hoping that I can convince some parents to work with their children on their assignments. After all, they can make so much more progress one-on-one than we can two-on-twenty-one.

Well, I suppose that’s about it for now. I hope that this posting finds you all well and much, much colder than me. Haha. ¡Besos y abrazos a todos! ¡Adiós!

P.S. To those that are still wanting to contribute: it’s looking like the best mode of contribution will be monetary. There’s a rather heavy tax on packages. So, if you give money, we can go into San Pedro Sula to purchase some of the many things that we so badly need. Jeremy and I really want to purchase workbooks for our kids — teaching from the board is completely futile when working with first graders. If there’s something in particular you’d like to get for the school, just let me know how you’d like us to use the contribution. Feel free to email me at briana.flaherty@gmail.com if you’re interested.

A quick note from el pueblo de Guatemala

Hey, all! I just wanted to drop a quick note to let you know that a) I am safe in Guatemala City and b) I've completed my exam.... I wish I could say incredibly successfully, but in all honesty I have no clue. I didn't do too well on my practice exams, but, as most of you know, I tend to be optimistic about these things. :) Besides, I figure that even if my scores aren't a shining demonstation of what an incredible chemist I am, at least the effort I went through to take the exam should be proof enough that I do, indeed, want to be in graduate school. Sometimes I think that's the only reason they make you take it anyways... to prove committment. Well, hopefully two eight-hour bus rides (here and back) and at least $450 in expenses (between the exam and traveling expenses) shows commitement, right?

Anyways, just wanted to let you know I'm safe. We had an amazing American-style meal after the exam, and I'm really enjoying Guatemala City. I think anything's better than San Pedro Sula... :p We head home tomorrow at 9:00. I'll try to post another blog next week. Love you guys!

A morning at the mall

Sundays are becoming my luxury days: I’m sitting in the mall in San Pedro Sula using their high speed wireless internet and drinking a latte, and I’m in heaven… or, at least, as close to heaven as you can be when sitting in a mall food court next to a play area full of screaming children. Oh, the things I’ll put up with for good coffee and fast internet!

The start of the morning was a little less luxurious: casa grande flooded again. It’s amazing that our house that rarely has running water has flooded twice since I’ve been here. On top of that, our sink fell off the wall last week. There has been progress in the kitchen, however: we moved the non-functioning fridge along with it's rotting contents outside where it’s now been sitting for nearly a week waiting to be picked up. Check out the attached pics for a glimpse at what was creating the god-awful smell in our kitchen.

It would seem that winter struck Honduras during the past week. Not that it’s necessarily cold, but it’s chilly enough that I am using a blanket at night and really have to pep talk myself into my nightly cold showers. In fact, I’ve been going days without showering often due to lack of water, but sometimes simply because I can not bring myself to step into the ice cold stream of water that flows (or trickles) from the PVC pipe in my bathroom. It doesn’t help that the water in our house only seems to function after 10:00 or so in the evening. An icy shower right before bed is just not appealing… though it certainly is refreshing once I get up the guts to brave it!

This week was the first “full” week of school since I’ve been here. Monday through Wednesday I had my typical schedule: first grade English in the morning followed by middle school Reading and more first grade after lunch. It went rather smoothly, although I’m starting to recognize areas where there is a lot of improvement to be made in the way classes are conducted. Due to our sporadic copier and broken printer, we are often forced to teach directly from the whiteboard… which is more or less impossible, especially with the first graders. The influence that teaching from the board has had on the kids was evident when I subbed for the 2^nd grade teacher a couple weeks back: copy copy copy. That’s all they know how to do. They copy exactly what you do from the board without absorbing any of it. If we’re going to make this work, we must find a way to give them worksheets to work on, so my roommate and I are going to try to get the school to give us some money to go to an internet café and prepare as many copies as possible from some of the books that we’ve found lying around campus. Hopefully that should help the kids actually learn how to spell and read rather than simply regurgitate.

During the latter part of the week we were short 5 teachers due to a “miscommunication” between the school and some of the other instructors. Mirna “miscommunicated” that this weekend was a 4-day-weekend, so they planned a trip to Antigua. Then, due to the many days of school that we missed last week, she changed her mind and claimed that there has never been a long weekend on the schedule. Ah, such wonderful management. So, we compromised and had half-days Thursday and Friday. Thursday I took over for the absent 4^th grader instructor… never have I seen such unruly kids! She left me things for them to work on, which many of them refused to do. Rather, I spent the entire morning screaming at them and struggling to maintain control. It was awful. On Friday I traded my roommate for 5^th grade… he’s been a teacher for a while and has a way of forcing control over the kids. The 5^th graders were a breeze! There are only 9 of them in the class… it was such a relief. Next week, I think, I should be starting my remedial class… hopefully. We shall see. As far as I can tell thus far, things rarely go “as planned” around here.

The majority of my time the past couple weeks has been spent lying on my bed studying for the Chemistry GRE Subject Test, which is now less than a week away. I leave Friday for Guatemala City where I will be taking the exam. I’ve been studying like crazy and still have 5 days and a loooong bus ride of study time left, but I’m starting to get nervous. So, keep me in your thoughts! I really want to ROCK this test!

I finally took some pictures of casa grande and of my first graders. Enjoy!

I hope you’re all doing well! ¡Les quiero y les extraño mucho! ¡Besos y abrazos a todos!

1. My bedroom. 2. The view from my bedroom of the pila... and Dave showering in it (it's the only fairly consistent water we have). 3. The view from our balcony. 4. The kitchen. 5. The source of the stench. :p

1. The first grade class. 2-5. Some of my students.

Life as I now know it

It’s interesting how rapidly the mind adapts to new stimuli. Sometimes I feel as though I’m watching a cartoon… like my mind has temporarily suspended my sense of reality for the duration of my stay here. I was walking home from school yesterday passing middle-aged men on their porches with their T-shirts pulled up above their protruding bellies (as seems to be the fashion here) and half-naked children running through the trash that litters the sides of the road when a rooster stepped out onto the road and joined us for part of our trek home… and it took me a minute or so to realize how odd the whole thing was. Roosters are just one of the many things that have become part of our daily scenery. There’s also the bull that frequents the road to Ben’s house, pregnant stray dogs on every corner, machetes EVERYWHERE (men, women, even older children… but then, “childhood” here seems to end around 14), men with rifles strolling around the school grounds to ward off intruders... all a part of daily life. The oddest part of it all is that not only is this becoming normal, but enjoyable. I am truly beginning to enjoy my time here.
Before I left Boise I made comments, half-jokingly, about encountering machetes down here, but I had no idea how prevalent they would truly be. Although, they no longer instill the fear in me that they once did, because I’ve now realized them for what they are: a tool. Yes, they can be used in violence, and, naturally, that’s the only exposure we tend to have to them at home. But, here they are the most multi-purpose instrument you can get… they slaughter animals, prune trees, chop wood, and, of course, serve as protection. I’m checking into buying one before I come home. Odd, I know, but I think little would symbolize the lifestyle here better.
As many of you know, besides coming to teach, I had a second mission in my journey to Central America of lesser but, nonetheless, significant importance: dance. I had a dream of moving once again to a country, like Costa Rica, where dance was a way of life; a place where salsa and merengue dancers instinctively flocked like the salmon of Capistrano… as far as I can tell, this is not that place. We went out dancing on Saturday night to a local restaurant/bar called Coco Loco’s. We danced all night long with the creepy and (often) old men… practically none of which knew how to dance. NO salsa played. Bachatta music played, but no one knew how to dance to it and so defaulted to the basic merengue step. A lot of merengue played, and, while here they had mastered the basic step, they had little more than that. I think the most exciting point of the night was when they played Michael Jackson, no doubt, for the 10 gringos that had graced their bar that evening. It was still a lot of fun, but my goal of improving my dance skills is not likely to be realized in Cofradίa. I’m hoping to try my luck in the nearby San Pedro Sula soon.
Perhaps one of the most frustrating things that I’ve encountered thus far, second to the incredibly inconsistent water pressure, is an opportunity to better my Spanish. I knew that on campus Spanish usage would be infrequent since the primary goal of the school is to teach the students English, but I had higher expectations of the locals… though perhaps I shouldn’t have. It’s not that I’m not speaking Spanish, but, rather, that their Spanish is so poor that I fear mine may be getting worse from speaking with them. For example, one of the things that I struggle with most is verb conjugation, a skill that the people here seem to have disregarded entirely. I’ve been completely shocked by the number of times I’ve heard things like “no gustar” or “no entender” from both children and adults alike. And, since my last proper Spanish lesson took place in Costa Rica two years ago, I’m finding it difficult to remember the basic conjugations of a lot of verbs. It’s incredibly frustrating. But, hopefully it will come back. Either that or maybe I’ll have to splurge on a basic Spanish book.
Well, I suppose that’s it for now. I miss you all like crazy, but I am really doing well. I’m very happy with where I am and with all the experiences I’m having here… as odd as they may be. Oh, and one more thing – a short advertisement: if any of you are interested in teaching this spring, half of our teachers are only here for the semester and will, therefore, be leaving in December. We could definitely use the help. I won’t sugar-coat it and say it’s easy, but I can promise it will be a learning experience at the very least. If you’re interested let me know!

One week down...

I’ve now been out of the states for a full week, and, as of midnight tonight, I will have been in Honduras one week. It seems like an eternity. So much has happened in so little time. But, as I said before I left, once I get through these first weeks it should be pretty smooth sailing, and that seems to be the case. Now that I’m getting used to the area, the people, the school, and everything that comes along with those, a routine is beginning to develop and I’m growing comfortable with where I am.
We cleaned up our house, which is referred to as “Casa Grande” by those in the program simply because it’s so much bigger than the other volunteer house (don’t confuse big with nice – that it’s not – but it’s a free house and I’m glad to have it). I'm starting to be a regular around town, which is certainly a welcome change. My first day here I went to the supermarket where everyone stared at me as though I had some awful birth defect: “oh my gosh, she’s Caucasian…” That, too, is beginning to change. People recognize me and say hello. It’s not a large town, but it’s not too small either. Actually, I don’t think they have any idea what size it is nor where the borders of the town lie. Two recent consensuses were taken: one stated that Cofradίa has 40,000 citizens while the other claimed 90,000. So, naturally, when I asked Ben he simply stated, “There are between 40,000 and 90,000 people that live here.” Uh huh…
My favorite is when I see one of our students around town. Granted, in a city of 40,000 to 90,000 people, it’s not the most frequent occurrence, but it’s always fun to hear “Miss! Miss! How are you?” Every now and then we’ll get a ride in the back of someone’s truck to or from school, which is really nice with all the rain we’ve gotten lately. In fact, there’s been so much rain these past few days that the town is flooding and school has been cancelled for the day. Crossing the road in front of our house is like wading through an ankle-deep, muddy river. It’s quite the experience.
I’m starting to get used to the food, too. It’s not quite what I expected. Apparently even rice and black beans is a little to classy for this town. Meals include refried beans, yuca, macheted chicken (bones and all), plaintain chips (they don’t even have corn chips)… not the most appetizing selection. They’re most common dish, however, is quickly growing on me: the baleada. An elegant compilation of refried beans, matequilla, and goat cheese inside a warm tortilla... yum! There’s a local restaurant called Iguanas about a block away that makes them to order with eggs, tomatoes, onions, avocadoes, the works… and all for about a dollar a piece. A visit to Iguanas has become a daily routine… and the addiction begins…
Lastly, I’m beginning to get used to the school as well… though not quite as quickly as the baleada. The middle schoolers are a breeze. There are only about 10 of them, they stay in their seats, and they speak English moderately well. I had them each write me a paragraph about their weekends in class yesterday so that I could get a feel for their writing skills, and I’m definitely working with a range of abilities. It should be interesting, but I’ll take it over the insanity of the first grade classroom, which is where I’ve been the rest of the day lately. Wow… I had no idea first graders were so much work! Likewise, we’re dealing with a range of abilities in there too… only instead of 10 students we’ve got 20 hyperactive, screaming children. Jeremy has put me in charge of their English lesson since I can help them in Spanish, but getting them to sit quietly for an entire lesson and actually do what I’m asking is a story in itself. I’ll need more time to complete this adaptation.
Overall, things are looking pretty good. Am I homesick? Yes. I miss you all like crazy! But, I’m happy where I am and looking forward to this final adaptation… I so hope that I can have a lasting influence on these kids and their education.

P.S. I know some of you had expressed an interest in donating to the school. I’ll come up with a more formal list of things that are needed, but here’s what I’ve come up with so far: dry erase markers, paper (lined, white, colored, all of the above), pencils, pencil sharpeners, markers, crayons, etc. What we need more than anything right now is a copier that is designed for humid conditions… either that or a new air conditioner. The air conditioner in our office broke, and the humidity is causing the papers in the copier to stick together… which has left us copier-less… a pretty crippling state to be in. :p
I’ll keep you posted on anything else I think of. Love you guys!

Welcome to CBS

I had my first day of work last Thursday, and what a day it was! I had been warned that this place was disorganized, but what happened Thursday was a step above what anyone had warned. I spent the morning observing some of the classes and just kind of getting to know the school. After recreo I joined my roommate, Jeremy, with the first grade class. Apparently, during recreo some of the colegio kids (7th-9th grade students) had gotten permission to watch a film. I´m not entirely sure what they were watching as the title was in Spanish, but it was some horror film by the makers of Saw... clearly something most children in the states wouldn´t be allowed to watch. Besides being given permission to watch the film, they were also given permission to use this as an "organized" activity to raise money for the school... an organized activity that none of the teachers actually knew about, of course. So, they began charging the children 5 lempira a piece (approximately $0.25 and all of their lunch money) to watch this film. Once they´d admitted a good number of 1st through 3rd grade students, the children started acting like children do... being rowdy. So, the colegio students kicked them out... then began the UPRISING! A good 20 kids storming the door and the colegio classroom screaming "el dinero! el dinero!". I´ve never seen anything like it! After the kids took down a colegio kid and left him with a good goose egg on his forehead and one of the colegio kids punched a 2nd grader leaving him with a bloody nose, things finally calmed down. I addressed the principal about it (who speaks no English) and told him that they should give the money back, and he said that it was the kids fault for being rowdy.... THEY´RE KIDS! Unreal! This place is crazy!

I found out what I´m going to teach: In the mornings I´ll be helping Jeremy with his kids, before lunch I will work with the colegio kids on reading, and after lunch until the end of the day I will work with the children with especially low levels of English. I´m really looking forward to it.

There´s truly no way to explain all of the things that I´m experiencing down here. The poverty that I saw on the bus ride to San Pedro yesterday was heart-wrenching. The poverty here is almost as bad. I knew what I was coming down to, but I don´t think there´s any way to truly be ready. Nonetheless, I´ll do my best to relay some of my experiences to you all back home, but no matter what I say there´s no words to explain it.

I miss you all already! ... as well as good food, good meat (that´s not hacked up with a machete), hot showers, paved streets... this will be a long 5 months. But, I´m excited about everything to come, and I know this will be an incredible experience! Until next time: I love you guys!

I'm heeeere!

Well, after a 17 hour flight, I'm finally in Honduras. As I got in so late last night, I slept in this morning and have kind of been lounging around the dirty house all day. Took my first shower with a bowl of water (the shower doesn't work so far), found out that the phone in the house doesn't work, learned that I'm living with three guys only one of which I've met so far, and realized there's no food in the house... so I haven't eaten since Fort Lauderdale last night... STARVING! Nonetheless, I'm doing really well! I'm so excited to be here! I know this will be an amazing experience.

I get to go to the school for the first time tomorrow, and then Friday is a holiday so I have a three day weekend! If I'm smart I'll spend it studying for the GRE, but if any of the other 9 volunteers has some sort of travel plan... well, I'm not sure how smart I'll be. We'll see.

Anyways, I'm starving and have a few things I need to buy and a new city to explore. I'll post more later. Love you guys!

Four days to go!

Well, four days left until I depart for Honduras! I'm new to this whole blogging thing, but I'm fairly certain the majority of you, especially family (yeah, you know who you are), would kill me if I fell off the face of the earth again. I think Costa Rica was excusable because I made it home for Christmas. So, this time we'll make a trade: Christmas for blogging. Deal?

Ah! I can't believe how soon I leave! I'm kind of a roller coaster of emotions right now... which should be fun for all of you coming to my farewell party tonight (I promise, I'll try to keep it together!). Fear, excitement, anxiety, sadness... I've got a little bit of it all. Mostly excitement, but some definite nerves about all the unknown that awaits me: What will it be like? Who will I work with? Who will I live with? What age group will I teach? What subjects will I teach? Who's going to win this presidential election while I'm gone?!!! So much unknown! But, I'm overwhelmingly excited as well. This is something I've wanted to do for so long. And, after spending the past 18 years of my life focusing on me, my education, my aspirations... I can't wait to set aside my selfish ambitions and do my best to make a difference in the lives of these children whether it be by teaching or simply by being a part of their lives. I so look forward to making them a part of my life, and I anxiously await the personal growth and changes that lie ahead.

Well, my farewell toga party begins in hours, so I suppose I should get some more packing done! I'll see many of you very soon!